Allons-y Isn't the Only French the Doctor Knows
by the geeks have the phone box
Summary: A short one-shot fluff piece. Nothing overt, but definitely suggested. Rose/Ten and Martha/Ten, if you catch my drift. *wink*


_A/N - So this is something I actually wrote for a college class. (Dude, art school is AWESOME!) Anyway, the assignment was to create a piece that appropriated from an existing source. We had discussed slash fic as an example of such an appropriation so I decided, "what the heck?" and gave it a shot. There's also a Photoshop to go with this story, which you can check out on Deviantart under RisaRocksIt. The title of the piece is Fanfic. (Creative, I know!)_

 _As I alluded to previously, I'm an art student, not a writer, so please excuse my fledgling attempts at writing fanfic and please be gentle with my fragile artist's ego if you choose to review. That being said, when I read it aloud to my classmates, they seemed to get a pretty good laugh out of it, which was my intention. I even made my very cute teacher blush, so I call that a win._

 _As far as rating, though there is nothing overtly naughty (over just isn't my style), naughty business definitely gets implied, but it's up to you as reader to fill in the blanks about what happens where my story ends and your imagination begins._

...o0o...

"Where are we going, then?" inquired Martha, excited but more than just a little nervous, "and why the frock?"

"You'll see," the Doctor replied with a mischievous gleam in his eye, as he took Martha by the hand, half running, deeper and deeper in to the heart of the TARDIS.

"I don't think I've ever seen this part of the ship before," marveled Martha, trying to keep up, and more importantly trying to keep from bursting out of the antique corseted dress the Doctor had requested she wear.

"Reckon there's a lot you've never seen or done before…," he intoned with a raise of his eyebrow and a lopsided grin.

At last they came to a stop in front of an ornately carved wooden door. The Doctor fished through his trouser pockets, searching for the key. He too was dressed in period garb, with a flowing crimson shirt, tall leather boots, and a pair of black trousers that were much tighter than his usual pinstriped suit. Martha pretended not to notice the trousers. "Why not just sonic it open?" she wondered aloud, hoping she didn't sound as self-conscious as she felt.

"Doesn't do wood," he said, looking back at her over his shoulder. "A-ha!" he exclaimed with a manic grin as at last he produced a key, one of those old-fashioned brass skeleton jobs. The Doctor carefully unlocked the door, holding it open and gesturing for Martha to step inside.

Throughout her travels with the Doctor, Martha had seen some amazing things; yet she still could not believe what lay before her. Here, in a hidden room aboard the TARDIS, was an 18th century Italian parlour, glittering with gold leaf and crystal, complete with a large marble fireplace and rich velvet curtains. It was the most beautiful room she had ever been in. As she was trying to take it all in, she noted that they were not alone. Lounging by the fireplace, on an expertly woven rug, was a woman, similarly frocked in a red satin gown. "'Ello," greeted the blonde, with a distinctly working-class London accent, as she gave Martha a small waive with her fingers and a warm smile.

Martha looked back at the Doctor, who was slipping on a pair of 3D glasses. "Martha Jones, meet Rose Tyler," the Doctor replied, as he walked over to the curvaceous blonde woman and knelt down beside her, on a plush velvet cushion.

"But I thought she was lost forever!" gasped Martha, her brow furrowed. Rather than explain, the Doctor just smiled gently at Martha, then turned back to Rose, taking Rose's face in his slender hands as he began to kiss her forehead, her cheek, and at last arriving at her lips. Martha looked away from the pair, desperately trying to deny the jealousy she felt. _If he came in here to snog some other girl, why bother bringing me along?,_ she wondered angrily.

Just as Martha was about to turn tail and leave, hot tears welling up in her eyes, the Doctor stood and stalked toward her, a smirk on his lips. Taking Martha's left hand in both of his, he gently led her over to the rug, then leaned in close and whispered softly, his almost cool breath tickling her ear, "Allons-y, Dr. Jones…"


End file.
